


Quarter Moon

by crescentmoon223



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Halloween, Necromancy, Season/Series 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 22:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentmoon223/pseuds/crescentmoon223
Summary: “Come on, Scully, it’ll be like a date.” But a cemetery stakeout on Halloween isn’t her idea of a date. Until things take an unexpected turn…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kyouryokusenshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyouryokusenshi/gifts).

> For the X Files October Fanfic Exchange, I received the spooky word “Necromancy” as a prompt from Valerie. Set during Season 11, after The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat and before Ghouli. Valerie, I hope you like it! xx

The interior of the SUV smelled like cheeseburgers and sunflower seeds. Scully sighed, propping her elbow against the door as she slid a glance in Mulder’s direction.

“Necromancy, Scully,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “What could be more romantic on Halloween?”

“I don’t know.” She turned her head to look out the window, hiding her smile. “Watching a scary movie? Eating candy until we feel sick? Dressing up and scaring trick-or-treaters?”

“Nah, this is more fun.” He crumpled a burger wrapper in his fist, shoving it into the paper bag at his feet. Then he reached into the backseat for the binoculars and peered through them into the cemetery to their left. An altar of sorts had been set up in front of one of the graves, candles flickering in the darkness. This was, of course, the reason they were here, hunting necromancers when he’d promised her a date.

Beyond the cemetery, orange and purple lights gleamed from front porches on the residential end of the street. Here and there, a Jack-o-lantern glowed. And while Scully wouldn’t exactly call it romantic, she had to admit it set an aesthetically pleasing mood on Halloween night.

“As for candy, Scully, I’ve got you covered.” He opened the center console of their Ford Explorer, crinkling the plastic inside for effect.

She pushed his hand aside to investigate for herself. It was too dark inside the SUV to see what kind of candy he’d brought, but her fingers brushed against the unmistakable shape of candy corn inside the bag. “Ugh, Mulder. You know I hate these.”

“Keep looking,” he encouraged, still looking through the binoculars.

She pulled her hand out of the bag of candy corn and dug around until her fingers encountered another unmistakable shape, round and foil covered. Now this was more like it. With a satisfied smile, she unwrapped a peanut butter cup and popped it in her mouth. The truth was, as much as she liked to give Mulder a hard time about bringing her on a cemetery stakeout, she was enjoying herself. This was what they did. They went on dates in cemeteries and chased monsters and tracked UFOs to the far ends of the earth.

Sometimes, she hated it. The X Files, for better or worse, had a tendency to consume their lives. But it also brought out the best in them. The years when Mulder had been in hiding from the FBI had been some of the worst years of their lives. She’d thrown herself into her work at Our Lady of Sorrows to avoid going home, to avoid seeing Mulder lose himself to the demons inside his own mind, and eventually, it had destroyed them.

They’d only just begun to find their way back to each other, an occasional night together during a case or a “date” like this one. She still loved him. She would always love him. And as she munched peanut butter cups in their darkened SUV parked alongside a centuries-old cemetery, she was having more fun than she’d had in years.

“It’s a quarter moon tonight,” she commented, gazing up at the sky.

“Isn’t that a half moon?” he asked, squinting into the darkness where the moon hung, half-illuminated over the cemetery.

“It’s called a quarter moon because it’s a quarter of the way through its cycle.”

“Ah.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, as if drumming to an imaginary beat.

She reached for another peanut butter cup, chewing it quietly.

“I think we should take a closer look,” Mulder announced, surprising no one. He was always the first to grow impatient during a stakeout.

“What if we scare them off?” she protested, reluctant to leave the cozy interior of the SUV.

“If they happen to show up in the next ten minutes, we’re just another couple out for a romantic stroll through a cemetery on Halloween.” He winked at her.

“If you insist.” She shrugged into her jacket and pulled on black gloves and a matching hat, tucking her hair beneath it. Red hair didn’t make it easy for her to keep a low profile.

Mulder opened his door. The interior of the SUV remained dark, as they’d disabled the interior light before beginning their stakeout. Moving seamlessly together, they crossed the street and entered the cemetery. A cool breeze whipped over her exposed neck, making goosebumps rise on her skin. The night was quiet other than the rustle of fallen leaves and the sound of their own breath. Peaceful, despite the possible crime about to be committed at the gravesite ahead.

She and Mulder crossed silently to it, standing before the altar that had been erected at Grace Sherwood’s grave. In 1698, Grace was accused of bewitching a neighbor’s pigs and sentenced to the water test, in which a person’s hands and feet were bound and they were thrown into a body of water to determine their innocence or guilt. An innocent person would sink, while a witch would float. Grace floated.

Scully figured the artifacts before her were the work of teenage pranksters who’d heard a suspected witch was buried here, but Mulder had received an anonymous tip that necromancers would attempt to resurrect Grace’s body on Halloween, so here they were. The altar contained a ring of flickering candles around a hand knit doll in Grace’s likeness and several open containers of unknown powders and dried plants.

“Look at this,” Mulder whispered, scuffing his shoe against the ground to reveal a white, crystallized substance beneath the fallen leaves. He bent and pinched some between his fingers, bringing it to his mouth before she could stop him.

“Mulder!” she hissed.

He tasted it, looking up at her with a satisfied smile. “Salt.”

She nodded, giving him an exasperated look. She could have told him that without a taste test, but she had no doubt Mulder had already known too. Salt circles, like the one they were currently standing inside, were commonly used in witchcraft and associated with resurrecting the dead. Mulder enjoyed pushing her buttons as much as she enjoyed pushing his. He waggled his eyebrows at her with a wicked grin as salt crystals slipped through his fingers.

The air was heavy with an herbal scent from the burning candles, something pungent and unpleasant. From her earlier research, she knew necromancers often burned plants such as hemlock, aloe, mandrake, and opium, and while she doubted these candles contained anything so potent, who knew? She wasn’t keen to stand around and breathe it in, in any case.

She crooked her finger, and Mulder followed her toward the street. Back inside the SUV, they slipped out of their jackets and gloves. Unfortunately, they’d brought the scent of the candles back with them on their clothes, filling the interior of the Explorer with their herbal smell.

“Ready to call it a night?” she asked.

“True necromancers would wait until midnight,” he said, glancing at the clock on the dash, which read 11:32. “We’ll give them another hour or so.”

“Fine.” She popped another peanut butter cup in her mouth and leaned back in her seat to wait.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Mulder looked over at her. “Would you resurrect the dead, you know, if you could?”

“Hell, no. Have you forgotten what happened with the Millennium Group? You and I almost got eaten by zombies…or whatever they were.”

He grinned. “Zombies, Scully. You said it.”

She huffed, annoyed with herself for walking right into that one.

“And no, I wouldn’t want to do _that_,” he said. “But I think it’s a lot more common to have a visitation, a vision, that sort of thing. A chance to talk to someone you’ve lost.”

Their eyes met in the dim interior of the car. They’d lost so much, so many departed loved ones between them. Of course, she’d want the chance, but…

“That’s impossible, Mulder,” she whispered.

“If you say so.”

They fell quiet again then. Eventually, her eyes grew heavy, and she closed them. Maybe she’d nap while Mulder waited for his necromancers to show up. This wasn’t an official X File, after all, just his idea of a fun Halloween date. And she was so tired…

_“Dana.”_

_She opened her eyes at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Mom?”_

_“Hi.” Maggie smiled at her, and the sight of her filled Scully’s chest with something warm and wonderful._

_“Hi,” she whispered._

_“Did I ever tell you about this necklace?” Maggie asked, lifting a silver pendant from beneath her sweater. It was a quarter on a chain._

_Scully gasped. She couldn’t remember why, but she knew this was important. She’d been wanting to know about this necklace. “No, you didn’t.”_

_“Your father gave it to me on our twenty fifth anniversary,” Maggie said with a nostalgic smile. “Our silver anniversary. I was hoping for jewelry, but not quite like this.”_

_“Why a quarter?” Scully asked. Her father had been a lifelong military man, not the type for sentimental gifts._

_“Well, it was minted the year we met.” A shaft of light caught the quarter as Maggie turned it between her fingers, flashing in the darkness. “He told me that we’d been quartered all over the world with the navy, but home would always be wherever we made it. Really, an unexpectedly meaningful gift, knowing your father.”_

_“That is,” Scully said. “I didn’t know he had such a romantic side.”_

_“Oh, he did. I’m sorry you and he didn’t always see eye to eye, but he was very proud of you, Dana. I hope you know that.”_

_“I do.” She touched the cross at her throat._

_“You and Fox have been together for twenty-five years now,” Maggie said._

_“As partners,” Scully said. “We’ve only been a couple for about half that long.”_

_“Details.” Maggie winked. “I think you two have loved each other for all twenty-five.”_

_“Yes.” She smiled. “You’re probably right about that.”_

_“I’m right about most things. I miss you, Dana.” She pulled Scully in for a warm hug._

_“I miss you too, Mom.” She squeezed her eyes shut as a tear broke free. The vanilla scent of Maggie’s favorite lotion filled her lungs, and she breathed it in—breathed _her_ in—as contentment filled her soul._

“Scully.”

Her eyes snapped open, the dream receding like someone had just yanked away a warm, comforting blanket, leaving her cold and exposed. She blinked at Mulder, disoriented to find herself back in their SUV, which still smelled obnoxiously like the would-be necromancers’ candles.

“Sleeping on the job,” he teased.

She scowled at him, rubbing her hands over her jeans. It had gotten chilly in here. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat, memories of her mother still lingering behind her eyelids.

“It’s twelve-thirty,” he said. “I think the necromancers are a no-show. Let’s go home.”

Yeah, this was how she liked her Mulder: willing to call it quits at a reasonable hour instead of insisting they sit out here all night like he would have done back in their early days together. “Agreed.”

“You okay?” His hand landed on her thigh, warm and comforting.

“Just tired,” she told him, not really wanting to get into the dream about her mom.

Mulder would have theories…

But it was just a dream.

“You want to stay at the house tonight?” he asked.

On another night, she might have said yes, but right now, her emotions were unsettled. She could still smell her mom’s lotion behind the scent of the candles. “Not tonight.”

“Okay.” He started the SUV, giving her a long look before he pulled out into the street. “How about I take you on a real date tomorrow?”

“You don’t have to do that, Mulder.”

“I want to,” he insisted, and this was another thing she’d noticed about Mulder lately. He seemed to be trying—really trying—to make an effort where their relationship was concerned.

And she appreciated that more than any date. Maybe after twenty-five years, they’d finally get it right. She leaned in to give him a quick kiss. “Okay, then. Surprise me. Nothing fancy.”

“You got it, Scully,” he said, looking so genuinely pleased that she almost changed her mind about going home with him.

They were mostly quiet during the drive to her apartment. She was tired and feeling a little melancholy. Sometimes, it was hard to believe her mom was really gone, that they’d left so much unsaid. And that confounded necklace…

Mulder pulled up in front of her building. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”

She nodded. “Good night, Mulder.”

“Night, Scully.”

She gathered her things and climbed out of the SUV, not bothering to put on her jacket for the dash to her front door. It still stank like those necromancers’ candles anyway. She let herself inside and reactivated the security system before walking down the hall to the laundry room. She stripped to her underwear, stuffed all her clothes—including her jacket, hat, and gloves—into the washing machine, and started it.

Wrapping her arms around herself for warmth, she went to her bedroom and slipped into her robe before opening the jewelry box on her dresser. The quarter necklace Maggie had given her on her deathbed sat on top, shining dully beneath the overhead light. Sometimes, she wore it under her clothes, dangling below her cross pendant, to help her feel closer to her mom, hoping she’d eventually figure out what it meant and why she’d given it to her.

She picked it up, allowing it to dangle from her fingers as she remembered Maggie doing the same in her dream. Scully’s breath caught in her throat as she held the quarter up before her eyes, squinting to read the year engraved on its surface.

1960.

That was…well, she wasn’t exactly sure, but her parents were married in 1962, so that might actually be the year they met. _Holy shit._

She sat on the bed as a tear broke free and slipped over her cheek. She knew what Mulder would say, of course. They’d stood inside the salt circle. They’d inhaled the hemlock or opium or whatever the hell was in those candles, and it had allowed Maggie to visit her in her dream, to explain this necklace that had haunted Scully for two years since her death.

But rationally, she knew that she’d had this information all along. She’d seen the date without realizing its significance, her conscious brain not yet having put two and two together. Right before she dozed off, she and Mulder had discussed contacting dead loved ones, which was why she’d dreamed about her mom.

And she was so very thankful that she’d finally figured out the meaning of the necklace. She couldn’t wait to tell Mulder. Tomorrow night, she’d stay at the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grace Sherwood’s story is true, btw! Although she was convicted of witchcraft and sent to prison, she wasn’t executed for her “crimes” and lived to the ripe old age of 80.


	2. Chapter 2

“You know you want to say it.”

Mulder grinned at Scully as they climbed out of the Explorer. He’d parked it off to the side of the road by an unmarked trailhead. “Come on, Scully. It’ll be a nice trip to the forest.”

She frowned, but there was an unmistakable twinkle in her eyes. “I swear to God, Mulder, if this involves aliens or monsters of any kind…”

“Just you and me,” he told her. “And that date I promised you.”

“We don’t have the best track record when it comes to hiking.”

“Ah, but Scully, we’ve never actually gone hiking when it didn’t involve an X File. This is different.” He put on his backpack and led the way onto the trail.

Scully wore a gray hoodie that he happened to already know felt as soft as it looked, paired with black athletic pants and these little black boots that had a drawstring that wound around and around them. They were also as soft as they looked. As for Scully herself, she was as tough as titanium, and yet, he knew all her soft spots too.

Last night, he’d seen the frustration in her eyes, and it wasn’t the first time. He had a tendency to become obsessed with his work to the detriment of their relationship. He knew this, because it had already been their undoing once. Last month, she’d given him a second chance, rekindling the romance between them. And here he was, already squandering it. If he wasn’t careful, sooner or later she’d have enough. He’d lose her again, and this time, it would be for good.

But he was older and wiser now, a man who realized the value of what he had. Most things in his life were expendable. Scully was not one of them.

“It’s not far,” he told her as they set out down the path. “We’ll have a picnic and watch the sunset.”

“That sounds perfect,” she told him, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

They chatted as they walked, theorizing about the necromancers who’d never shown up last night to raise Grace Sherwood from the dead. From there, they reminisced about the last time they’d had a brush with necromancers—The Millennium Group—and he wondered if she was remembering the same thing he was…their first kiss on New Year’s Eve all those years ago.

“Hopefully, we don’t come across any prehistoric bugs that feast on humans after dark this time,” Scully commented with an amused glance in his direction.

“Or a lake monster.”

“Is there a lake where we’re going?” she asked.

“Yeah. We’ll have our picnic beside it. This is private property, you know,” he told her. “So, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Private property?” Her eyebrows went up. “We’re not trespassing, are we?”

“Ye of little faith,” he teased, knowing full well she had every reason to doubt him on this. “I know the guy who owns it, and we have his permission to be here.”

“You know him?” Her eyebrow was still up, his favorite little skeptic.

“Yeah, I helped him with a…um…problem a few years back.”

“A problem?”

“He heard howling noises out here at night during the full moon.” He shrugged, giving her a sheepish grin. “Turned out to be local kids huffing paint.”

She laughed. “Sorry I missed that one.”

Yeah, he’d been pretty sorry about it too. He’d missed her every moment of every day they weren’t together, had felt the crushing weight of her absence on his soul. If he did nothing else for the rest of his life, he would spend it proving to her that he could learn from his mistakes, that he would put her first this time.

After a thirty-minute hike, they came out beside the lake. It stretched before them, wide and sparkling. The sky above it was just beginning to purple with the coming sunset. For once in his life, he had perfect timing.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“That depends,” she said, lips twitching as she fought a smile. “What’s in our picnic?”

“I picked up a rotisserie chicken and some sides…fruit, bread, cookies. And a bottle of wine.”

“Sounds delicious,” she said, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “And the setting is beautiful. I wouldn’t have thought of something like this for our date, but I love it.”

“I’m glad.” He took off his backpack, opened it, and pulled out a green blanket, which he spread across the ground in a flat area with a nice view of the lake and the sunset. The trees around them were a kaleidoscope of fall color, yellow and orange and red, some so dark they almost looked purple.

“Come here,” Scully said, pulling out her phone and gesturing for him to stand beside her. She spun them so they faced the trail they’d come out of, and they posed for a selfie with the lake behind them.

“We look good,” he said when she showed it to him. “Your hair matches the backdrop.”

“We look happy,” she said, something wistful in her tone.

“Yeah, we do.” He drew her in for another kiss, this one slow and lingering, making his pulse pound and his cock grow heavy inside his jeans. “Hungry?”

“Mm hmm,” she murmured, pressing closer against him.

The temptation to keep going—to lay her down on the blanket and have his way with her—was almost overwhelming, but he’d promised her a date, and he intended to deliver. Besides, there would be time to mess around later. So, with one more kiss, he pulled back and began setting out their picnic.

Scully sat on the blanket, arms clasped around her knees, watching the sunset as her hair blew over her shoulders. So small against the yawning backdrop of the lake. Sometimes he forgot just how petite she was in stature, when everything else about her loomed so large—her strength, her intelligence, her passion.

“Hope this makes up for me canceling on you last week when I was trying to find that episode of _The Twilight Zone_.”

She turned, tossing an amused look over her shoulder. “It’s okay, Mulder. I know how you get when you’re looking for something.”

He lifted the bottle of wine, silently cursing himself as he realized he hadn’t brought a corkscrew, but as luck would have it, it was a screw top bottle. Things were definitely going his way tonight. He twisted it open and poured two glasses before setting out paper plates for their meal.

They talked as they ate, reminiscing about two and a half decades worth of cases—personal and professional—pizza delivering vampires and shape-shifting bounty hunters and everything in between.

“Do you think William will find us?” she whispered after he’d put away their leftovers, her head on his shoulder and a plastic wineglass in her hand.

“Yeah, I do. I really do.” He wrapped an arm around her. “And if he doesn’t, we’ll find him.”

“I hope so.” A tear slipped over her cheek, and he leaned in to kiss it away, tasting salt on his tongue. She turned her face, bringing their lips together.

“I won’t stop until we’ve found him,” he said. “And like you said, you know how I get when I’m hunting for something.”

She smiled against his lips. “I do.”

Their kiss grew more intense, mouths moving together as the sun dipped below the treetops. Scully lifted her head long enough to gulp the last of her wine before tossing the cup in the direction of his backpack and sliding into his lap.

“Now you’re talking.” He gripped her ass, pulling her against his rapidly hardening erection.

She wiggled her hips, pressing closer. “Actually, I don’t want to do anymore talking.”

“I like the way you think.” He rocked her gently against him as they kissed. His tongue delved into the heat of her mouth, tasting wine and apple cinnamon cookies, a combination of sweet and spicy, much like the woman in his arms.

He allowed his mouth to wander, spreading hot, wet kisses over her jaw to the spot on her neck that drove her absolutely wild. He swirled his tongue there, rewarded by a whimper as her hips thrust against his. This was the advantage of dating the woman you’d lived with for almost a decade. He already knew all the ins and outs of her beautiful body, how to make her squirm, how to make her come…so many different ways to make her come.

“For the record, since we’re on private property, there’s no need for any concerns about public indecency,” he told her as he pushed the vee neck of her hoodie open so he could trace his tongue over her collarbone.

“You assume I was concerned,” she said, her voice low and throaty the way it was when she was aroused.

He continued his journey, kissing his way across her chest. “I know you, Scully. You were concerned.”

“Shut up, Mulder.” She gasped as he scraped his teeth over her delicate skin.

He toyed with the delicate gold chain around her neck, the cross she’d been wearing as long as he’d known her. During the months of her abduction, he had held that cross in the palm of his hand, and even though he didn’t believe in God, he’d prayed. They’d only been working together for a year then, but already, she’d felt integral to his life. He couldn’t imagine himself without her, not then and not now.

Today, there was another chain beneath the cross, this one thicker and heavier. He traced it with his fingers, finding the quarter pendant Maggie had given her before she died. The silver was warm from Scully’s skin.

“I figured out what it means,” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“My dad gave it to her on their twenty fifth wedding anniversary. It was minted the year they met.”

“A penny a year?” he joked, earning an exasperated sound from Scully.

“It’s traditional to give silver as a twenty fifth anniversary gift.”

“I don’t think quarters are actually made of silver.”

“Of course not, but it’s the thought.”

“Right.” He spun it between his fingers before returning his attention to her skin. Sometimes, during those long years after she moved out of their house, he’d wondered if he’d made a mistake in not marrying her. They’d never really discussed it. He’d just assumed all they needed was each other, and now he knew he’d been right. She’d come back to him because she was ready, because she wanted to, not because of a piece of paper from the government that bound them together.

He pushed her flat on the blanket, covering her body with his as he continued exploring. He reached for her waist, sliding his fingers beneath her hoodie and the shirt beneath it, lifting them so he could kiss her stomach, swirling his tongue over her skin until she was panting beneath him.

“Mulder…”

“I’ve got you.” He reached down and tugged off her boots, sliding his hands up her legs. But as he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants, she closed her fingers over his, her eyes darting anxiously around them. There was no one around to see what they were doing, but her comfort was his top priority, and anyway, it was getting pretty cool out here. He rolled her to one side of the blanket so he could wrap it over them, shielding her from inquisitive deer and the November breeze.

Beneath the blanket’s protective covering, he slid down her pants and underwear. He looked up and met her gaze as his fingers found her hot, wet center, watching as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth, her fingers gripping his biceps under the blanket.

He dipped his head, tucking himself beneath the blanket as he placed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her stomach before settling between her thighs. It was oddly intimate to be hidden from view like this, unable to see her face, sealed in a cocoon of flannel. He slid his palms up her thighs, and she opened to him. Luckily—as much as he loved to see every inch of her—he knew his way around her body, even blindfolded by darkness.

He started at her thigh, licking and kissing his way up, feeling the way she trembled beneath him, letting it fuel the desire pulsing through his veins. Would he ever get enough of this woman? Not likely. He covered her with his mouth, flicking her clit with his tongue. She jerked beneath him, moaning his name as her hands fisted in his hair.

He settled in, licking and sucking the way he knew she liked, carefully paying attention to every glistening inch of her before returning to her clit. He closed his mouth over her, sucking hard, while he pressed a finger against her entrance, testing her before pushing inside.

Scully arched her hips, writhing beneath him. “Fuck, yes, Mulder, don’t stop.”

“Not a chance,” he growled against her wet skin before getting back to business. His cock throbbed insistently inside his jeans, and he reached down with his free hand to squeeze himself. _Fuck_. He exhaled sharply, drawing another strangled groan of pleasure from Scully as his breath met her sensitized skin. Nothing turned him on more than getting her off.

“I’m close,” she whispered, fingers clenching in his hair.

“Take your time, Scully. I can be a patient man.” He kept going, pumping his fingers in and out of her while his tongue swirled over her clit, and then she was coming, release rippling through her as she moaned and swore, her whole body going tense and then limp beneath him.

Grinning, he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt before sliding up, his head popping out from beneath the blanket. The first thing he registered was the cool, fresh air on his face, because _damn _it was getting hot under that blanket, but there was Scully, cheeks flushed, eyes dazed, smiling back at him, and he really was the luckiest fucker in the whole world.

“That was nice,” she murmured, drawing him in for a leisurely kiss.

“Just ‘nice’?”

“Mind-blowingly, heart-stoppingly nice,” she clarified, reaching down to press her palm against his aching cock. “You really are good with your mouth.”

“And other parts of me, I hope.” He thrust himself into her hand.

“All of you is very talented,” she said with a wicked grin as she fumbled with the button of his jeans.

He helped her out, and before long he’d scrambled out of his jeans and boxer briefs, his cock nestled in the heat between her legs. He stared into the midnight depths of her eyes as he sank inside her, a homecoming of sorts. She threaded her legs with his, holding him close as he began to move. The sky overhead was a deep purple now that the sun had set, and around them, there was no sound but the whisper of the wind through the trees and the panting of their breath.

“God, Mulder,” she gasped, her fingers pressing into his ass. “So good.”

“Fuck, yes.” He reached between them to stroke her where their bodies joined, and she gasped into his mouth, her hips rocking against his, urging him on. They moved together, kissing and groping as the sky darkened around them until finally, his control started to slip. His balls tightened, his cock throbbing with an urgency so intense, he was quickly reaching the point of no return. His hips jerked, and he paused, trying to hold himself back.

“Let go,” she whispered. “I’m ready.”

He didn’t need to hear that twice. He pounded into her hard and fast, his hips pistoning beneath the blanket as she met him thrust for thrust. She cried out as she came, her body gripping him, pulsing around him, carrying him right over the edge with her. Release poured through him, wave after wave of such intense pleasure he could only groan at the power of it.

Then he dropped his head and kissed her. She smiled against his lips, limp and languid beneath him, eyes closed, hair spread around her face like a fiery halo. They were both hot and sweaty, dressed from the waist up and naked below. A pretty damn fine situation to find himself in, honestly.

“Wow, Mulder,” she breathed as her eyes fluttered open. “You really outdid yourself on this date.”

“I had a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

“No, you didn’t,” she murmured, staring at him with such unabashed affection in her eyes, it took his breath away. “This is all I ever wanted. Just you.”

“I’m yours. The first time you walked through that basement door, I was yours.”

“Mulder.” She gave him an exasperated look, but he wasn’t joking. Not this time.

He rolled them to their sides on the blanket, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I mean it, Scully. I wasn’t yours in a romantic sense, at least not right away. But I’d been waiting my whole life for someone to take me seriously, and you did. You thought I was batshit crazy, but you listened, and you respected me.”

“You _are_ batshit crazy,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

“I just…I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and I feel like we’ve come full circle, now that we’re back on the X Files. Those years at home, I got so lost in the idea that my work had been taken from me, and now that I’m back, I see that what I really missed was you, Scully. Working with you. Being with you. I won’t make that mistake twice.”

“Mulder…” A tear slid over her cheek.

“What I’m trying to say is that, if you want to leave all this darkness behind and go somewhere new, start over, anything you want, I’ll go.”

She smiled, snuggling closer against him. “I don’t know, I’m kind of having fun chasing monsters with you again in the X Files.”

“Well, if you ever change your mind, if you want out, just tell me. I’m ready for anything, as long as we do it together. Just lean in and whisper it in my ear on some random afternoon, and we’ll go.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The quarter moon rose over the lake, even brighter than it had been last night in the cemetery. He fingered the quarter necklace dangling around her neck. “Twenty-five years together, like this necklace. I want twenty-five more, Scully. I want three or four necklaces worth.”

“Well, that’s good, since I’m immortal,” she quipped. Her expression sobered, and she pulled him in for another kiss. “I want that too, Mulder. We’ve already got the first twenty-five years under our belt. The next quarter should be a breeze.”


End file.
